


Why (Not) Me?

by SeeMaree



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergent, F/M, First Kiss, SO MUCH FLUFF, and teenage awkwardness, just fluffy cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:14:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29796576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeMaree/pseuds/SeeMaree
Summary: On this day, of all days, Gilbert has forgotten he was supposed to walk Anne home. He's got a good excuse. Mary could be having the baby at this very moment! He needs to get home!Good excuse or not, his forgetfulness kind of ruins everything. Until it doesn't.Set between season 2 and 3. Mary is going to give birth at any moment, and Anne is having the most terrible, soul-crushing and repulsive day ever. And it's all Gilbert Blythe's fault.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 10
Kudos: 103





	Why (Not) Me?

The door bangs open and the frigid blast of January air carries with it a whirlwind, a red headed, angry whirlwind. 

Gilbert winces. He’d forgotten his plans to walk home with Anne, and she clearly isn’t pleased.

She opens her mouth, no doubt to yell at him, and he hurries to sush her. 

“Mary’s resting, we need to be quiet.”

He’d barely paid attention to anything at school, he’d been too worried about Mary. She’s nine months pregnant and when the midwife had visited three days ago she’d said that the baby could come at any time now. (At least Gilbert thinks it’s what the Arcadian woman said, his French is terrible.) 

This morning Mary had announced that she’d been having mild contractions on and off since the early hours. Not strong enough to call the midwife yet, she’d assured the immediately panicky men. Gilbert had wanted to stay home, just so there’d be one person (himself) to fetch the midwife, while the other (Bash) could stay with Mary. But she’d forced him to go to school, insisting that babies take a long time to arrive and life had to go on in the meantime. And sure enough when he’d come home he’d found out it had been a false alarm, the contractions had stopped and now Mary is resting, worn out from a day of anticipation that turned out to be for nothing.

But Gilbert had been worried enough that he’d dashed out of school as soon as it was released, forgetting about Anne, who had told him that very morning that she had permission to come over straight from school so she could make dinner and allow Mary to stay off her very swollen feet. 

Anne glares at him, but she does restrain herself to a hiss instead of a shout. “Gilbert Blythe this is all your fault,” she says, before marching over to the sink and, to Gilbert's shock, shoves her face under the flow of icy water she pulls up with the pump.

“Anne! What are you doing?”

She’s washing her face, that much is clear, giving particular attention to her mouth, even taking big gulps of water to swish around her mouth and spit, like she’s trying to get rid of a bad taste. Is she sick? Has she been vomiting? He can’t have her getting Mary sick so close to her time, but he also can’t send an ill Anne off alone.

“Anne,” he whispers, more insistently. “Are you all right? Were you sick?”

She stops to stare at him in confusion, and he takes the opportunity to take her by the shoulders and steer her to sit down at the table. He hands her a kitchen towel to dry off her face, which is now pink, and her lips are reddened by the harsh scrubbing she was giving them. She looks quite beautiful, and Gilbert feels guilty for even thinking it, when she’s obviously unwell. He gets her a cup of water instead of staring.

“Do you need to go home? Bash is just in the barn, so I can walk you.”

Her glare returns. “Oh now you can walk me? Where were you earlier when I actually needed you?”

Gilbert’s heart sinks with guilt. “I’m so sorry! I was so worried about Mary and the baby that I forgot you were coming over and just rushed out. I promise I’ll make it up to you!”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t see how you’ll be able to make this up to me.”

He grins, glad she seems healthy enough. “Try me. Tell me what I need to make up for.”

“Since you forgot I existed, Charlie Sloan decided that he had to walk me instead.”

Okay that was unfortunate, but fixable. “I promise any time he wants to walk with you you can say you’re already walking with me. I won’t forget you again.”

Her eyes narrow. “That is not the part you will never ever be able to make up to me. Walking with him was merely annoying, although he did tell me that I’m probably not going to be able to have children because I’m too emotional,” she pauses, looking uncertain. “That’s not true… is it?”

Is she asking him as some sort of medical authority? Because he has seen some strange things in the obstetrics textbook Dr. Ward grudgingly lent him. Most of it sounded preposterous though, and not anything he feels comfortable repeating to Anne.

“Not as far as I’ve ever known,” he says instead. “Mary is certainly a woman with strong feelings at times, and she’s about to become a mother for the second time.” 

Anne smiles in relief. 

“Was that what you were upset about?” Gilbert asks.

Her smile instantly disappears. “He kissed me,” she blurts out, and then drops her face to the table, banging her forehead on it a few times as if for emphasis.

Gilbert stares at the neat part that runs across the top of her head, dividing her bright hair into two braids. Surely he didn’t hear that right?

“Charlie Sloan kissed you?” He struggles with the burn of red hot jealousy. How could Charlie have been kissing Anne? While he, Gilbert had momentarily forgotten her? Surely this was too terrible a punishment for such a minor mistake?

“It was awful,” she moans, not lifting her head.

It was awful. That should make him feel better. Nothing to be jealous of. But it just makes him want to murder Charlie some more. What had that boy done to Anne? Had he forced her to kiss him?

“I’m sorry Anne,” he says with full sincerity. His emotions are all over the place, but the curiosity of how this could’ve possibly occurred rises to the top. “What happened?”

She sighs, and stands, moving to the kitchen larder, seemingly needing the distraction of preparing dinner as she talks. Gilbert steps up beside her, taking a knife and a wooden cutting board, and waiting for her to pass him some things to chop. They’ve gotten used to working together like this over the last few weeks as Mary has gotten more tired and Anne has been around more often, eager to help out. Gilbert isn’t much of a cook, but he can chop things. And Anne probably shouldn’t be wielding a knife anyway, in this state of distraction. 

“He was pleased you’d forgotten about me, you know. Smug even. And then he insisted on walking with me, as if I’m not capable of walking from the school to here without assistance.” She tosses her head in annoyance. “And he told me all sorts of boring things his father has been saying.”

“Like things about emotional women?” Gilbert ventures.

Anne manages to smile. “Exactly like that. It makes me worry for his mother.”

Gilbert is quite familiar with Eunice Sloan. When he was smaller she had criticised him relentlessly, under the guise of feeling sorry for the poor boy without a mother who didn’t know any better. He really doesn’t feel much concern for her welfare.

“And this led to kissing… how?” He’s trying to see how Charlie could’ve gone from reciting his father’s low quality wisdom to kissing Anne. 

“Well! He was under the impression that he was seeing me home to Green Gables, despite the fact that I’d told him I was coming here. When I tried to take the turn off he stopped me and told me that it was clear you were ‘letting me down easy,’ and that it was time to give other fellows a chance.”

Gilbert stifles a groan. Of course Charlie believed they were in competition. As if Anne was a prize to be won by the most determined boy. Knowing Charlie he probably thought he was impressing Anne with his assertiveness.

“I said I had no idea what he meant.” She tilts her chin up in that way of hers, which of course does present her mouth at a most kissable angle. 

“And he decided to show you exactly what he meant?” Gilbert asks in resignation. Of course he did. Such a Charlie sort of move.

“I suppose.” Anne pulls a face. “He has convinced me that I never want to speak to him again, let alone kiss him. It was disgusting. He licked me. And I think he had smoked herring for lunch.” She shudders and turns her focus to the meat she has browning in the big stew pot, poking at it viciously. “Do you have those vegetables chopped?” 

He doesn’t. So he hastily turns back to his chopping. 

“So Gilbert Blythe. Do you still think you can make this up to me? After my first kiss has been stolen in such a heinous manner? It’s impossible. If only I could travel back in time.”

She sounds so sad. Gilbert wished he could make it all better for her. No doubt she’d dreamed of her first kiss being something entirely romantical. Instead she had Charlie Sloan licking her with fish breath. The thought of it makes Gilbert shudder.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers as he slides his chopped vegetables over. 

She doesn’t respond, just busying herself with the pot of stew, occasionally giving Gilbert directions to bring her ingredients, and then more wood from outside to restock the stack beside the stove, something he would’ve thought of himself if his brain had been working right.

Finally it’s at a point to be left to simmer, and they sit down at the table and open their school books. Another pleasant habit they’ve gotten into over the last few weeks. But Anne doesn’t seem inclined to study. She rests her chin on her hand, studying him instead.

“I bet your first kiss was much nicer.”

“Oh, um…” Gilbert feels very exposed. This wasn’t supposed to be about him. “I’ve not actually, um, done… that.”

Anne’s eyes widen in surprise. “You’ve never kissed anyone? You didn’t meet  _ any _ pretty girls in all your travels?”

Gilbert thinks of the dark sooty life of a coal shoveler, and the incredibly brief shore leaves on strange foriegn docks. “None besides the sort who would expect to be paid.”

He’s so flustered he doesn’t even realize what he’s said until Anne’s eyes grow to the size of dinner plates. “There are girls who  _ charge _ for kisses?” 

Oh no! “You cannot tell anyone I said that!” She nods but clearly doesn’t understand the seriousness of it all.

“I mean it Anne! It’s incredibly improper, and we would both get in so much trouble if you said a word!” Especially her.

“But it sounds so fascinating. Imagine being able to charge for being kissed!”

“It’s not,” Gilbert says, resigned to having to give her enough information to make sure she understands at least a little. “The women who end up doing that, their lives are pretty bad. A lot of men treat them terribly. Please Anne, you cannot talk about this to anyone. Ever. People will think the worst of both of us. Okay?”

To be quite honest prostitutes had seemed pretty fascinating to him too, when he’d first learned of their existence. The other men had been full of promises to take him to the best girls and make a man of him. It has been incredibly enticing and yet also sort of horrifying, to hear their lewd stories and to consider the idea of letting a perfect stranger do  _ that _ to him. He knew it was wrong. But his body found it tempting. If it wasn’t for Bash with his warnings of diseases and then later—after they found that woman giving birth practically in the street—blunt truths, his urges would’ve eventually overcome his misgivings. 

And now he’s incredibly grateful to Bash for his steady presence and his assurances. He feels sullied enough sitting here opposite Anne thinking about those places and those things. Imagine if he’d actually paid one of those women… No he’s not going to think about it. Not right here in front of Anne, who, in his fantasies is quite willing and eager to kiss and touch him just because she wants to. He’s also not going to think about that right now.

“You’re so lucky to have your first kiss still ahead of you in all it’s romantic potential. And no doubt you’ll kiss some sweet pretty girl who adores you.” Anne sighs sadly. “Me, I’m going to be stuck with Charlie’s repulsive kiss sitting on my lips for all of eternity, because who knows if any other boy will ever want to kiss me?”

“You can kiss me.”

Gilbert has no idea why he says it. Except perhaps this is the most confusing and stressful conversation he’s ever had and the idea of a single kiss staying on her sweet mouth forever makes him feel a little desperate. Why does it have to be Charlie’s kiss, one she found  _ repulsive _ ? Why can’t it be his kiss that lingers for all eternity?

Anne is staring at him stunned and he realizes he has about one second to take it back or fully commit himself. But… if there’s a chance to kiss Anne, right now, today, who would take that back?

“I mean, if you want. I know it wouldn’t really make it up to you, but it would still be a first kiss, right? And it would be something you chose for yourself and that’s a kind of a first too...“ he stops talking because Anne has gotten up and come around to his side of the table, and he’s starting to panic. Either she’s about to kiss him, or she’s about to smack him in the face. At least she doesn’t have a slate in her hands. But there’s one on the table. He tries to discreetly slide it out of reach.

He jumps to his feet, feeling at a disadvantage with her standing over him. And then he’s startled when she flings her arms around him, hugging him. 

“Thank you,” she whispers. “But you don’t have to do that just to make me feel better. You should save your first kiss for someone special.”

“You’re special.” 

She shakes her head. 

“You just said I should have my first kiss with someone sweet and pretty and adoring, right? You’re pretty and you just hugged me like you adore me.”

“I’m not sweet.”

“You’re kind. That’s much more important than sweet.”

She stares at him, tears shimmering in her eyes. “You really mean that?”

Is it really such a surprise to her that he knows she’s kind? But he nods. 

Before he can think she’s taken his face in her hands and pecked a kiss on his mouth. It’s all over before he even realizes it’s happening and it might be a tiny bit disappointing.

She pauses, her hands still on his face. “What was the last thing you ate?” she asks.

“I… um… I had a biscuit with plum preserves when I got home.”

“Okay, good. Can I try again?”

He nods dumbly. She can literally ask for anything she wants right now.

This time she takes it a bit more slowly, giving him time to register the texture of her lips and the way her fingers slide across his cheeks.

She pauses again, scowling in frustration. “I don’t know what to do. But he did… more.”

And Gilbert realizes he’s been standing there like a dummy, passively accepting her kisses without doing anything to participate. Hell if he’s going to let Charlie Sloan outdo him when he’s supposed to be wiping away any memory of that idiot. And thinks he knows what she’s looking for. Bash and Mary do try to be discrete. But they’re in the privacy of their own home, and Gilbert has gotten used to walking into rooms and then having to quietly leave again. He has a pretty good idea of what real kissing looks like, and he has no qualms about putting that knowledge to use now.

This time when their lips meet he opens his mouth more and lets his lips brush over hers more softly, tasting her. She matches him, move for move, and more so once she gets the idea of it. It’s electrifying, better than any fantasy. He never ever wants to stop.

“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” she asks, pulling back a little.

“Does everything have to be a competition with you?”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “Just answer the question.”

“I swear, you’re my first kiss. But… I do live with newlyweds.”

Her smile grows bigger. “Lucky for me then.”

Lucky for Gilbert is more accurate.

“Did it work? Is Charlie’s kiss gone?” he asks.

She slides one of her hands to the back of his head, drawing him in so their foreheads are pressed together. 

“I can’t even remember who that is.”

Gilbert feels absolutely giddy. 

A new gust of frozen air sweeps into the kitchen. “Hello Anne!”

They spring apart spinning to face Bash, who is wearing the biggest smugest grin Gilbert may have ever seen.

Oh no. 

“I need— I— Marilla— I have to go!” Anne babbles, and within seconds she’s swept a pile of books off the table and she’s out the door, dragging her coat on as she goes. Gilbert can’t even move. He should go after her to walk her home. It’s getting dark. But Bash is blocking his way, still wearing that ridiculous smirk, clearly waiting for an explanation.

Gilbert takes the cowardly path of ducking down the hall to tap on Bash and Mary’s bedroom door, and is incredibly relieved when Mary calls out for him to enter. He can hear Bash rattling around in the kitchen, no doubt getting washed up and setting up for dinner, so he takes his repreve, slipping into the room to check in with Mary and make sure she’s feeling well enough to come to the table. She looks tired, but assures him the contractions haven’t come back. 

“Dinner smells delicious,” Mary says, after they’ve sat down and said grace. “Who made it?” 

“Anne was here,” Gilbert says, focusing his attention on buttering his bread so he doesn’t have to look at Bash.

Bash who is so gleeful he’s practically vibrating in his seat. “And what else was she up to while she was here, hmm?”

“It’s not what you think!” Gilbert snaps. At least he doesn’t think it is? Anne wasn’t entirely clear on what she wanted, besides a kiss to replace the one from Charlie. Now that she has it… maybe that’s it? 

“And what should I be thinking then?”

Gilbert shakes his head. He can’t tell them about Anne’s misadventure with Charlie, she’d be humiliated. But what else can he say? Was it just an experiment? A dare? Did he trick her somehow?

“What are you pestering the poor boy about,” Mary demands.

It’s all Bash requires. “Kissing! I came into the kitchen and found them kissing! Blythe finally found his backbone and told that girl how he feels!”

He had, sort of. Or perhaps not really at all. Gilbert groans. “I’ll be lucky if she ever speaks to me again.”

That makes Bash pause in his gleeful cackling. “Surely not,” he says. “She seemed quite pleased with you from what I saw.”

“She’s got all night to realize what an idiot I am,” Gilbert says, gloom settling over him. Had he done what Bash had warned him about on a dock halfway across the world, all those months ago? Given up something important in his future for a few moments of pleasure in the now?

His appetite has fled, and he gets up, gathering his books from where Bash stacked them at the end of the table. “I need to study,” he says, and flees to his room. 

Of course he doesn’t study. Besides the fact that Anne has managed to take some of his books home with her, leaving him with duplicate texts, he simply can’t concentrate. He sits at his desk with a book open in front of him and stares out the window into the darkness trying to divine how Anne is going to treat him in the morning.

He’s not sure how much time passes when the sound of Bash’s footsteps coming up the stairs jolts him out of his reverie. He braces himself for another round of teasing, but Bash’s face is serious when he taps on the open door. 

“Are you alright?” he asks.

Gilbert shrugs. 

“You want to talk about it? I promise I won’t tease you.”

He does. He really really does. “I feel like maybe I tricked her into kissing me, and she’s going to figure that out and hate me.”

Bash raises his eyebrows at that.

“Did you lie to her? Or say things to make her feel bad about herself?”

Gilbert shakes his head. 

“What happened then?”

“I can’t really tell you. She’d be humiliated if I betrayed her confidence.”

“How about I guess then.” Bash wanders the room touching some of the small treasures accumulated throughout Gilbert’s childhood. His rock collection, the set of tin farm animals that are still lined up across a shelf. “Since you apparently didn’t just tell her how much you like her, and she’s told you something in confidence, I’m thinking this has something to do with her not feeling good enough. Perhaps she thinks that no boy will ever want her?” He turns back, catching Gilbert's startled eyes. “And for whatever reason you… you didn’t quite tell her that you do.”

Gilbert isn’t quite sure how Bash figured all that out, even if it’s not the full story it’s close enough to how it ended. Hadn’t Anne said that Charlie’s kiss would be on her mouth forever because no other boy would want to kiss her? 

He hangs his head in shame. “I’m an idiot.”

“You are,” Bash says with such quiet certainty that Gilbert wants to sink through the floor. “But hopefully not a total failure. You were at least nice to her? Or did you go at her like a bull put to a cow?”

Gilbert grimaces at that imagine. “Of course not!”

Bash seats himself on the blanket box at the end of the bed with an expectant look. “Well? What did you tell her?”

Gilbert wishes he could just get the advice without the mortifying ordeal of having to explain things. 

“Anne said I should wait and kiss someone special. I said she’s special. And pretty, and kind.”

“And you meant all that, you weren’t just saying it so she’d let you kiss her.”

Gilbert stares at him in confusion. “Of course I meant it.”

“I don’t really see what the problem is then. You don’t have to follow my example and be ready to propose immediately.”

Putting it that way makes Gilbert feel a lot better. Perhaps he hasn’t totally ruined things after all. But something still niggles at him. 

“When I said that stuff… she looked like she was about to cry. She  _ thanked _ me. Not like you normally thank someone for a compliment, it was like I’d given her something she didn’t deserve. I guess I just don’t understand. Why doesn’t she feel good enough? She’s amazing.”

Bash sighs heavily. “When you’ve been told all your life that you’re not good enough it gets pretty easy to start believing it. With Anne, I don’t think her life was very good before she came here. The only thing you can do is keep on telling her how special she is, and be ready to listen if she wants to talk about things.”

Gilbert can absolutely do that. It’s not like it’ll be difficult coming up with things to tell Anne that he likes about her.

Bash pats him on the shoulder. “Okay, try not to have too many exciting dreams eh? I better go see if this child of mine is going to change its mind again and arrive today after all.”

Gilbert does have rather exciting dreams, probably fueled by reliving the incredibleness of kissing Anne as he’s drifting off to sleep, but they’re rather abruptly interrupted by Bash shaking him awake at 3 a.m. and telling him he needs to go for the midwife. 

Baby Delphine enters the world a little before noon, not that Gilbert knows that right away, since he’s been shut out of the house because he was annoying everyone, pacing the hallway and jumping every time Mary made a sound. It was all much easier with the woman in the islands. No time to think and too much to do. Here he was shut out of the room and all he could do was pace around and listen to Mary cry out in pain. The midwife came and pushed him out the door eventually, so he was stuck bothering the horses in the barn instead of Bash in the kitchen.

No one comes to get him until it’s truly all over. He’s ushered into the room to see Mary propped up in bed, looking exhausted but smiling as Bash sits beside her, cooing over the baby.

Bash’s smile is incandescent. “Isn’t she the most beautiful baby you’ve ever seen?” he asks.

The baby actually looks red and bald and sort of smushed but Gilbert smiles over her too. “She’s amazing,” he whispers.

“Would Uncle Gilbert like to hold her?” Mary asks.

He reaches for her eagerly, but carefully. She’s so tiny and fragile.

“And maybe take her into the other room so Mary can nap for a while?” Bash adds. It’s not just Mary who needs to nap. While Gilbert had at least gotten half a night’s sleep, Bash and Mary apparently hadn’t slept at all. Both of their eyes are sliding closed even as Gilbert is closing the bedroom door.

The bundle in his arms feels far to light to contain someone so precious. 

“You are precious,” he tells Delphine, when she blinks her big brown eyes open and stares at him. “And I’m going to be the most fun uncle a little girl ever had. And I’ll give you lots of advice about which boys to avoid. Or perhaps you should just avoid all boys to be safe. Perhaps I’ll just teach you about growing apples. But that’s not very fun uncle is it? How about I sneak you away from your parents and we let Anne plan the adventures?”

He talks to her for a while, but eventually his grumbling stomach forces him to set her down in the small basket that’s already set up in the corner of the kitchen, and look for something to eat. He hasn’t had breakfast or lunch. The stew Anne prepared the day before waits in the chill of the larder, apparently no one ate much last night, and so he sets it on the hob to warm, and slices some stale bread to turn into toast. Baby Dellie obligingly dozes off, as exhausted as her parents by her own birth. 

Gilbert feels pretty tired himself, and the knock on the back door startles him as he drowses over a half eaten bowl of stew.

Anne comes right in without waiting for him to answer, shutting the door quickly in an attempt to keep the cold out. 

“Are you all right?” She asks. “When you weren’t in school I was worried…” she looks uncertain. 

Gilbert beams at her. “Come see,” he says, leading her to the basket in the corner. 

“Meet Deliphine Marie Lacroix.”

“Ohhh! She’s adorable!” 

She’s actually still red and mushy looking, but he understands. She’s beautiful for existing. Especially when her big eyes flutter open. 

“Can I hold her?” Anne asks, but she’s already reaching into the basket, and cradling the baby with an expertise that Gilbert is yet to gain. 

“How is Mary doing?” Anne asks, gently rocking the small bundle back and forth.

“She seems fine. She and Bash are resting, but if you want to bring Marilla by later I bet she’ll be happy to show off her baby to both of you.”

Anne smiles and reluctantly places the baby back into the basket. “I guess I should be getting home to share the happy news then. I’m sure Marilla will want to bring over food too.” she dons her outerwear and then they stare at each other for a moment. Gilbert wants to offer to walk her home, but he can’t leave the baby, but Anne seems to be expecting something of him.

“I guess I’ll see you later then,” she says, turning to open the door. 

“Wait. Anne. About yesterday—”

“You don’t have to explain! I know you were just doing me a favor. It’s not as if I care,” Anne says her voice a little too bright. 

Her words sting, and it would be so easy just to agree with her and let things go back to the way they were. But then he’d probably never get to kiss her again. And besides. He promised himself he’d tell her how special she is. Even if she doesn’t feel the same, she deserves to hear it. 

“No!” he says, clamping his hands into fists so they don’t shake. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

She pauses then, waiting. 

“I wanted to say that I didn’t really properly tell you how I think you’re amazing and special, and not just because you kissed me. But, that was amazing too, and you’re the only girl I think about like that, and I just really wanted you to know that. I don’t expect you to feel the same.” He stumbles a bit at the end, but she’s smiling at him and he thinks he did okay. At least he hasn’t made her feel bad. Except she’s starting to look teary again.

“Really?”

“Of course really. Do you think I’d give my first kiss to just any girl?”

She lunges at him, and he’s not quite prepared to be kissed so their teeth clank together painfully, but before he can adjust she’s whirled out the door. It’s okay. Wonderful. Amazing. Best day ever. 

“I’ll see you later,” she calls once she’s safely outside.

“Is she gone?”

Gilbert turns to see Bash peeking around the corner from the hallway. He steps out and it’s obvious why he was hiding. He’s dressed only in his long underwear and a pair of half fastened trousers. 

“Were you there the whole time?”

Bash shrugs and grins, and then dances over to the baby basket, scooping Delly up and spinning her around. “My darling daughter, we shall always have double celebrations on this day. Not only for your wonderful arrival in this world, but also as the day that Uncle Gilby finally acted like a man and told Auntie Anne how much he cares. And she still likes him! Truly a miracle.”

“I know you’re mocking me, but I feel too good to care.”

And then Gilbert notices a rather noxious looking substance leaking through the back of the baby’s gown, it looks like black tar, and he wants nothing to do with it.

“You know what? I’m falling asleep here. If you’re awake I’m going up to bed. Bye.”

He dashes for the stairs, and is only halfway up before he hears Bash’s exclamation of disgust. 

Gilbert falls asleep with a smile on his face. Anne likes him! Delphine is here and everyone is safe and healthy. Life is wonderful. Truly this is a day he will remember forever. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So about 5 years ago, I wrote a scene in my first novel, (it's called Echoes of Azure if you want to check it out) where my MC is surprise kissed by a guy she doesn't like, and she ends up having a first kiss do over with her friend, which of course leads to them getting together romantically.  
> I ended up having to cut it, it didn't work for the pacing of the novel (they didn't end up kissing until the middle of the next book in the series... I like me some slow burn okay?) but the whole idea of a first kiss do over stayed with me all this time, even though I never got a chance to use the idea.  
> And then I was rewatching this show, and seeing how much Anne was stressing over her first kiss, I thought of this concept again, and how perfectly it fit the personality of these 2 idiots. And then I had to add in some gleeful Bash, and why not the birth of Dellie, just for added fun?  
> So here you go! First kiss do over finally has it's chance in the sun. Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
